Hungry for More: Romantic Fantasies for Women - just published! With stories by Tiffany Reisz, Greta Christina, D.L. King and more. 21 fantasies, from "Kitchen Slut" to a cougar to Craigslist sex to BDSM to bukkake to watching two men get it on, and more!

The door is barely open a couple of inches before a strong arm is grabbing my wrist to pull me into the room. His fingers grip with a firmness that means I can’t pull away as he twists it behind me and into the small of my back. Using this leverage on my wrist, he pushes me against the wall hard enough to knock the air out of me as he kicks the door closed with a sinister slam.

He locks it, the finality of the clicking of that bolt echoing in the room and my head, a reminder that the time to turn back has come and gone. The moment I knocked on this door, I consented to become his plaything. From here on out I have no say in what will happen. No words are to leave my mouth in this space; I am at his mercy. I can only hope I’ve made a wise choice.

My body is pressed against the cold wall, him leaning into my back, wrenching my wrist at intervals to elicit small pained gasps. Already I’m panting, which makes him chuckle sadistically in my ear. All I can hear is my heart racing and his breath against my neck. He spends what feels like forever enjoying this moment, allowing my adrenaline to build.

I move my head a bit to the side in order to see him. This is a mistake. He grabs my hair with his free hand, the one that until now had been resting tenderly against my waist. My head is pulled at a sharp angle so that all I can see is ceiling. Each breath is a struggle with my head tipped this far back, but at least he has unpinned me from the wall.

With my unbound hand, I ineffectually claw at the fingers in my hair until he takes that limb out of the equation by grasping both my hands in his, now trapped between our bodies and twisted between my shoulder blades. His other hand is on my neck now, a soft lover’s caress, all tenderness and reassurance, a messy contrast to the pain in my shoulders. Even I know what comes next, that he’s messing with my mind, letting me get comfortable before his next move.

Though I’m prepared for the moment his grip on my neck becomes tighter, the suddenness still takes me by surprise. He cradles my head into the crook of his shoulder while very literally holding my breath in his hand. The pressure on my throat means if I hold very still I can get enough air to stay conscious but also requires me to fight the very strong urge to not panic.